


More Than A Stranger

by spicywatson



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drinking, First Kiss, Flirting, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hopeful Ending, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Infatuation, M/M, Obsession, Seduction, The Iceberg Lounge, fast burn, well not exactly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-12 19:03:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18452714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spicywatson/pseuds/spicywatson
Summary: Ed drives himself through the crowd with a newfound determination. Confidence is key and although Ed has little he can at least pretend. When he’s finally within a short distance of Oswald, he takes the most calming breath he can manage and steps towards him.





	1. Chapter 1

Ed was going to do something incredibly stupid tonight. 

No more holding back.

No more fear.

Tonight, he was going to talk to the infamous Oswald Cobblepot.

It was for many months that Ed had admired the Penguin from afar, lingering in the Iceberg Lounge and watching him as he flirted with countless men. Oswald had such a way about him, such an undeniable charm. He could bring any man in Gotham to his knees, willing to carry out his every whim.

But it wasn’t just Oswald’s aura of power that captivated Ed. He had started from nothing. He had been beaten down his whole life. But he rose up, made a name for himself, earned the respect and attention he deserved. Oswald was an icon. 

Not to mention his looks. Striking green eyes, high cheekbones, unforgettable nose, perfectly sculpted hair. Freckles like constellations.

He was perfect.

_One night, as Ed made eyes at Oswald over the rim of his glass, he was at last confronted by his… infatuation. Riddler casually slid into the booth with him._

_“Mmmm. He is gorgeous, isn’t he?” Riddler drawled, eyeing the Penguin somewhat seductively._

_“Stay out of this,” Ed hissed._

_“If you don’t make a move, I will.” Riddler never took his eyes off Oswald, who was far across the bar, sipping his drink and leaning nonchalantly against the bar counter. “I think he would like me,” he said confidently. He stole Ed’s grasshopper, draining the rest of it in one gulp._

_Ed rolled his eyes. Riddler left._

But this was Ed’s move to make. Riddler would have absolutely no part in this.

Yet, here he was, leaning casually against the bathroom door as Ed attempts to shape his hair into an acceptable style.

“Hair gel, Ed. You need hair gel if you want that mess to look good for him.”

“Shut up.”

Riddler puts up his hands defensively. “Listen, I’m just trying to help. You _do_ want him to actually, I don’t know, look at you? Right?”

Ed presses his mouth into a line and reluctantly reaches for the hair gel. He combs his hair back neatly.

“I hope you’re not going to wear that.”

“What?” Ed self-consciously smooths his hands over his grass green sweater.

“Ozzie likes sexy men. Y’know, in suits? Not librarians,” Riddler remarks, raising an eyebrow at Ed.

Ed huffs. “I don’t have any expensive suits.”

“Fine, then. Have fun trying to get your dream man to notice you in _this_ ,” he waves his hands around at Ed’s ensemble, obviously disgusted.

After nearly ten more minutes of this back-and-forth banter, Ed storms off to find a suit.

\----------------------------------------------------

When Ed steps into the Iceberg Lounge, he’s nearly swept away by a glittering sea of party-goers, all dressed up in wild, sparkling costumes. He’s not sure if he stands out or fades into the background in his simple black suit and tie.

Loud music beats throughout the darkened club, shaking him to his core. Purple spotlights sweep across the room and Ed looks up, watching the tinted beams as they illuminate the umbrellas that hang from the ceiling. Booths line the walls, black leather upholstery gleaming, nearly every seat crammed with guests. An enormous ice sculpture of a penguin dominates the center of the lounge, imposing and strangely fascinating. Frost drifts off the ice, catching the purple light in its fog. Ed makes his way towards the bar, but his progress is slowed by the rush of dancers all around him. People swing and sway relentlessly in front of him, and he grows frustrated.

But then, Ed sees him.

Hidden behind the crowd, there stands Oswald Cobblepot, drink in hand, surrounded by tall, handsome men. 

What a vision he is. Ed thinks maybe he’s dreaming.

He’s dressed in a beautiful, shimmering silver suit with broad lapels, the cut of which excellently flaunts his figure. Fingerless leather gloves cover his hands. Ed’s eyes are drawn to his face as the purple light cascades over him. Oswald’s bewitching eyes are traced with bold black liner, eyelashes full and dark, incredibly sultry. He’s styled his hair in an elegant swoop, and Ed can swear he catches the gleam of violet highlights.

Oswald flirtatiously lays a hand on one man’s arm, smiling at him, but Ed can’t hear what he’s saying. Ed tries to ignore the sinking in his heart, tries to remind himself that this is nothing new- Oswald is almost always surrounded by men trying to gain his attention. Ed hopes these men find more in Oswald than just a suitable partner for a one-night stand. Oswald deserves better than that, he deserves more-

Someone bumps into Ed, breaking him out of his daze, and mutters a drunken apology before moving on. Ed casts an annoyed glance before weaving his way to a booth and slumping down, somewhat defeated.

“I don’t know if I can do this.”

“C’mon, Ed. You got this far. Are you really going to let him get away?”

Ed sighs.

“Alright. I’ll take care of this,” Riddler says resolutely, slapping his hands down on his thighs.

“No!” Ed throws out an arm to stop him. “Don’t,” Ed says firmly as he gets to his feet. He smooths his hands over his suit and straightens his tie. “Wish me luck.”

Ed drives himself through the crowd with a newfound determination. Confidence is key and although Ed has little he can at least pretend. When he’s finally within a short distance of Oswald, he takes the most calming breath he can manage and steps towards him.

He clears his throat. “Mr. Cobblepot.”

Oswald looks up slowly, long eyelashes fluttering and light smile tugging at his lips.

He can’t move. Oswald’s paralyzed him. Ed curses and curses himself. Oswald raises his eyebrows, obviously expecting Ed to say something.

‘Mr. Cobblepot,” Ed repeats, or rather stutters. He could smack himself.

“Yes?” Oswald says slowly. The gentle smile still hasn’t left his face, and Ed is grateful for that.

“Um, can I buy you a drink?” Ed voice trails off as he realizes that Oswald is still holding his martini. Burning embarrassment creeps into Ed’s face. He can hear Riddler scolding him from a corner booth.

Oswald quirks an eyebrow before polishing off the rest of his drink. He gives Ed a sly smile. “Let me buy _you_ one.”

He snaps his fingers at the bartender, who hurriedly passes him two bubbling glasses of champagne.

Ed takes a glass from him, their fingers brushing together as he does. Adrenaline shoots through his veins.

As the two take seats on the bar stools, the other men gradually disperse, realizing that Oswald’s attention has been stolen. The rest of the party seems to fade away, as if Ed and Oswald are the only two in the world.

Oswald practically has to shout over the heavy beat of the music “Are you a regular here, Mr…”

“Nygma. Ed Nygma,” Ed answers enthusiastically as Oswald clinks their glasses together. “Yes, I suppose I do come here often.”

“I see,” Oswald responds, eyes never leaving Ed as he sips his champagne.

“I, uh, actually I come here to see you-” Ed blurts out suddenly. Oh dear. 

Oswald tilts his head. “Oh?” He doesn’t sound the least bit surprised.

Ed’s hands are shaking now. “I- I am so sorry, Mr. Cobblepot, I never meant to-”

“Oswald.”

“What?”

“Call me Oswald, please,” he says, smiling more widely now. He starts to get up and Ed panics, nearly hitting his knees on the counter as he moves to stand as well. 

Oswald moves in close, yanks Ed down by his tie and kisses him passionately, kisses him senseless. Ed’s hands hang midair for a moment, unsure of what to do, so he settles them gently on Oswald’s arms. _He’s kissing the Penguin. He’s kissing the ruthless, powerful, beautiful Oswald Cobblepot._ His head is spinning. He kisses back with intensity, hoping to show Oswald that this feeling- whatever it is- is entirely reciprocated.

Oswald moans almost dramatically against Ed’s mouth, tangling his fingers in Ed’s hair. Ed is too lost in the moment to care that his hair has been mussed beyond hope. 

Oswald pulls away slowly from Ed’s lips, a dreamy smile on his face and his eyes sparkling like champagne. “Mmmmm,” he hums, utterly entranced, “I like you.”

All air is sucked from Ed’s lungs. “I- I- I wasn’t… expecting things to move this quickly,” he laughs nervously, running a hand through his hair.

“I must admit, Ed, I’ve seen you here often. And I’ve been watching you too.”

“You have?” Ed is certainly dreaming now. His own voice sounds so distant, floating far away from him.

Oswald hooks a finger under Ed’s chin. “I think you’re very charming. And handsome,” he adds with a warm smile. “You know, I’ve been waiting to see if you would make a move,” he leans up once more, eyes fluttering shut as he presses the _softest_ kiss to Ed’s lips. He pulls away gently from Ed’s mouth and touches his lips to Ed’s ear. “I’m glad you did,” he whispers, breath ghosting over Ed’s ear.

Absolutely intoxicating. Ed isn’t sure if the pounding in his ears is the music or his own heartbeat.

“Come have another drink with me,” Oswald says, taking Ed’s hand and leading him to a corner booth, one that is somewhat secluded from the action. Heavy velvet curtains hang beside the booth, helping to drown out the pulsing music. A bartender pours them each another glass of golden champagne.

Ed slips into the booth with shocking grace, considering how much he’s shaking. Oswald slides in next to him, and he’s so close he might as well just sit in Ed’s lap. He casts Ed a coy glance before indulging in his glass of champagne.

A glint of light on Oswald’s suit catches Ed’s eye. He’s close enough now to see a tiny enamel penguin pinned to his lapel. “I like your pin.”

Oswald looks down at his jewelry before returning his gaze to Ed’s eyes. He smiles and immediately unpins the little penguin from his suit.

“Oh no, no, no, Mr. Cobblepot, please,” Ed begs, waving his hands in front of him.

“ _Oswald,_ ” he corrects, focusing on fastening the pin to Ed’s suit. Ed breathes in the warming scent of his cologne. Apparently satisfied with the enamel penguin’s position, Oswald gives the pin a quick little pat. Right over Ed’s heart.

He stares at the pin for several moments, heart clenching. No one’s ever given him such a thoughtful gift. “Thank you,” he says breathlessly, looking deep into Oswald’s pale green eyes.

Oswald blushes. It’s very becoming and Ed needs to remind himself to breathe.

“Tell me about you, Ed,” he says softly, watching Ed curiously over the rim of his glass. A smile plays on his lips.

The two talk well into the night, even after the party goers have mostly filtered out and the music dims. A few couples stay to dance, this time to a much slower and romantic melody. 

Ed shares his story with Oswald, who listens with an attentiveness that Ed is definitely not used to. He tells Oswald about his upbringing, about how unsupportive, and frankly cruel, his parents had been. He tells Oswald about the night he came out to them, how they had grown silent and, without any other word, told him to leave. A deep sadness tugs at his insides as he remembers that night. Maybe he’s oversharing but he can’t stop the words from spilling from his mouth. Oswald rests a gentle hand over Ed’s.

As Oswald recounts his own life, and how he suffered from poverty and bullying in his childhood, Ed finds himself tightly clasping his hand. They’re not all that different from each other. It’s difficult to see very clearly in this dim lighting, but Ed notices tears slipping down Oswald’s cheeks when he talks about his mother. He reaches out and carefully brushes them away. Oswald responds with a weak smile.

He’s so different than Ed thought. Oswald is more than the alluring, ruthless figure he presents to everyone around him. He’s complex, he’s brilliant, he’s sad. All those men cluster around him, yet none of them _know_ him, _see_ him.

Ed at last sees the Penguin in a new light.

They’re the only ones in the lounge, now. Early morning light begins to brighten the club.

Ed’s head pounds but he feels strangely refreshed. The two stand, stretching their limbs. Their ties are loosened, suit jackets casually lain over the booth. Empty glasses on the table. The bottle of champagne completely drained.

They give each other gentle smiles. 

Oswald extends his hand. “It was wonderful meeting you, Ed.”

Ed delicately takes his hand, just holds it. Oswald leans up on his tip toes and presses a feather-light kiss to the corner of Ed’s mouth.

“I want you to come back.”

“I will,” Ed says softly, “I promise.”

They release each other’s hand, and both of them slowly turn away, Oswald heading to his office, Ed to the exit. They each look behind them once more, smiling when they catch the other spying.

Ed brings his fingers up to brush against the little penguin pin on his lapel.

No doubt he’ll come back.


	2. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Ed finds that his legs will not move. His heart’s pulling him in the opposite direction._

Heavy doors slam behind him, echoing in his ears. Chilly morning air bites at his nose and fingertips, icing him to the core. 

Ed finds that his legs will not move. His heart’s pulling him in the opposite direction.

Riddler sidles up beside him. “Where do you think you’re going, Ed?” For once, his tone lacks the bite of aggression, the hint of sarcasm. He sounds… disappointed. Saddened. 

Was Ed really going to do this?

“Are you really going to leave him?”

He gazes down at the little enamel penguin. Amazing how so small an object can capture his heart, tug at it, pierce it.

The softness of Oswald’s kiss lingers on his lips.

He simply can’t let him go.

Ed spins on his heel, throws open the doors of the Iceberg Lounge. He hears Riddler chuckling warmly, his voice fading into the distance.

And there Oswald is, reaching for the doors as well. Hope fills Oswald’s eyes as tears drop from them. Mascara and eyeliner stains trail down his cheeks. He feels his heart swell at this beautiful, heart-wrenching sight.

“Ed…” 

Ed surges forward, kissing him with a frantic passion. Oswald sobs against his mouth and gently cups his face. Gives him several little kisses before pulling away slightly, just enough to look into Ed’s eyes.

“I’ve been waiting for you my whole life,” he says, voice breaking and raw with emotion.

Ed feels himself falling, falling, falling. He leans forward once more, meeting Oswald’s lips with earnest. So warm and welcoming. He deepens the kiss and they become desperate, hands grasping at each other. Ed hoists Oswald up, clinging to his back as Oswald wraps his arms around Ed’s shoulders. Tears fall onto Ed’s face as they trickle from Oswald’s eyes. Little diamond drops.

“Stay with me,” Oswald whispers against Ed’s lips.

Ed gazes deeply into his soft green eyes, glittering so beautifully. “Anything for you.” He kisses him sweetly, briefly. Carefully sets him down on the nearest table like he’s made of porcelain.

Wrapping an arm around the small of his back, Ed tugs Oswald flush against him, allowing the radiating heat of Oswald’s body to consume him. He presses soft kisses along his pale neck, up and under his jaw. Savors the delicate touch of warm skin on his lips. This earns a gentle sigh from Oswald, who tilts his head back to give Ed more room.

Oswald’s lips are parted tantalizingly, and Ed can’t resist meeting them again. Soft like pink velvet. He’s incredibly addictive to kiss.

But then he pulls away.

“Wait, Ed,” he whispers tentatively. Fingers fiddling with the buttons on Ed’s suit. “Not here?” His eyes meet Ed’s. 

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Ed murmurs, covering Oswald’s hands with his own. The very last thing he wants to do is make Oswald uncomfortable.

Tangling their fingers together, Oswald smiles tenderly. “No, it’s not that. I’d just rather not be disturbed by any…” he trails off, trying to find suitable words, “…wandering eyes.” He quirks an eyebrow.

Ed can only imagine the headlines. News reporters would have a field day with such a story.

He leans in, drops a quick kiss to Oswald’s lips. Sweeps Oswald up off the table and into his arms. Oswald gasps and giggles. A graceful move, a show of strength he didn’t even realize he had. Maybe it’s the adrenaline.

Oswald nuzzles Ed’s neck with his nose, his fluttering eyelashes tickling Ed’s skin. 

Who knew Ed would have such luck.

Who knew he would finally find the person he’s been searching for his whole life. Someone who understands him, sees him.

Who knew they’d end up here, together.

Oswald presses a hand over the penguin pin, over Ed’s heart. Utterly enamored.

Ed smiles at the beautiful man in his arms before gently placing him on his feet. A tug on his lapels brings him down. Oswald’s lips on his. Heavenly.

Oswald extends a hand and Ed delicately takes it into his own. He lets Oswald lead him away.


End file.
